Miss H Granger
by meanwhileinmiddleearth
Summary: Eleven years old and completely unaware of the existence of the magical world, Hermione Granger receives a very special letter...


I stand rooted to the spot by my mailbox on a cool spring afternoon. The other mail forgotten, I gaze in awe at the thick envelope in my hands that's somehow _different_. My hands feel tingly, and I'm afraid to open it. My name stares back at me in green ink. I swallow nervously.

Commanding my feet, I move slowly back toward the house, never taking my eyes from this mystery document that I have a funny feeling could change my life. I find myself on the landing and, tearing my eyes from my beautiful address, turn to shut the door behind me.

"Anything good in the mail, sweetie?" Dad asks from behind his newspaper.

"Uh," I pause, "this." I hold out the envelope.

The top of the newspaper folds down and he looks over at what I hold out. His brow furrows.

"What's that?"

"Not sure."

He takes it from me, and only then do I see the beautiful wax seal on the back: four animals around a letter _H_. It's a symbol I vaguely recognize, but I don't know from where.

Dad studies it for a second—when he turns it over I see the same glint of recognition in his eyes. He hands it back to me and clears his throat.

"Well, it's addressed to you. Why don't you open it?" I can tell he's not as calm as he sounds.

"Dad, does this have anything to do with…" I pause. I'm not supposed to know about this. "…those people you were studying?"

"Guess we'll find out!" he says, with a too-large smile. "Jean!" he calls upstairs. "Eh, Hermione's got a special letter!"

"What?" comes my mom's muffled response.

"Come!"

A minute later she comes hurrying down. "Dan, what in the world is so important about this _particular_ piece of mail?"

I hand it to her. She looks at it, nonplussed. She turns it over and frowns slightly. "Dan, this isn't about…? I thought we were done looking into that."

He grins. "Apparently the powers that be disagree."

She sighs. "Don't say that." She gives the letter back to me. "Well dear, you might as well open it."

I take it from her delicately. I don't quite know what my parents are talking about, but random bits of old conversations come back to me. Something about the three of us meeting some strange people when I was only a few months old; something about my dad trying to research these people and my mom telling him to stop; something about that research starting up again after I _accidentally_ made mute the girl who had until then been at the top of my class. And I've seen that big letter _H_ before…maybe on Dad's computer screen?

They're both waiting for me, watching the letter as if it might grow fangs. I break the beautiful seal (and cringe a little) and pull out two yellowish papers folded into each other. The letterhead announces the sender as _HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_. I frown and look at my parents. My mom gives me a small smile and sighs. My dad nods at me to continue reading.

I read aloud:

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_ We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. _

_ Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

I'm excited, but I have no idea why. "What– what is this?"

"We…don't really know," my mom says, looking nervously at my dad.

He smiles at me. "It means you can do magic. Just like in the stories."

"Dan, we don't know that," my mom cautions.

"Jean, they sent her a letter! That's the school where kids learn that stuff."

I just stand there, looking from one parent to the other, trying and utterly failing to understand what they're saying. My dad kneels down, looks up at me, and takes my shoulders in his hands.

"Hermione, we think–" he looks at my mom, as if asking for permission to continue. She nods.

"We think," he continues, "that you're special. That you can do things other people can't. Remember Veronica Burke?"

I smile and nod. Once my parents believed that the accident was unintentional, it became sort of a joke between us.

"Well, it seems these people," he gestures to my letter, "agree with us. Looks like they want you to attend school there to learn magic."

My eyes grow wide and my heart starts pounding. I look at my mom; her jaw's clenched— is she fighting tears? —but she has that 'I'm proud of you' look in her eyes.

"What do you think?" Dad asks. "You wanna go?"

_Did I want to go?_ I had no idea, but this 'other side' of me scared me and excited me at the same time. I wanted to find out more…or did I?

"We don't have to decide right this minute," my mom says. "Maybe we could look into it a little more…now that we know…" She trails off.

My dad clears his throat. "Sure!" He stands up and strokes my hair.

"I'm…I'm gonna look at this some more in my room," I say. They nod, and as I make my way upstairs I can feel them waiting to talk until they hear my door close.

I lay down on my bed and stare at the letter again. I sniff, and then shake my head violently. I'm _not _going to cry over something this trivial. But it's not trivial, really. It's the rest of my life.

Then, inexplicably, a Kleenex pulls itself out of the box on my nightstand and floats gracefully into my lap. I stare at it, eyes wide. Then I laugh, pick it up, and blow my nose. I look at my letter again and then announce loudly to no one in particular, "I'M A WITCH!"


End file.
